


you taught me (how to stand on my own)

by angxlsgrxce



Series: but i want love (just a different kind) [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Father's Day, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, I'm Sorry, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angxlsgrxce/pseuds/angxlsgrxce
Summary: “H-hi, Mr. Stark. I had some things that I-uh, that I wanted to say. To you."or, peter comes to wish his father a happy father's day.





	you taught me (how to stand on my own)

**Author's Note:**

> howdy, happy father's day! this is Angst, you have been warned, please enjoy!

“H-hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers. “Tony. I-I’m just gonna call you Mr. Stark. I-I’m sorry that I haven’t c-come to see you, yet. But, um, I’m here now. And I had some things that I-uh, that I wanted to say. To you.”

 

Peter bites his lip, looking down at his shoes. The red Converse are dirty, and there’s a spot on the toe of the left one that Peter stares at, his eyes unblinking. He clears his throat roughly.

 

“I. I wanted to say-I wanted to _thank you._ But I realized that it’s not enough. I know what you-I know why you did it. And I-I’m so grateful. For everything, and... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I had just-if I hadn’t-I should’ve just been _stronger_. I’m sorry. Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, _May_ , they all said-they all keep saying th-that you did it for me. That if there wasn’t a chance that you could get me back, you wouldn’t-you wouldn’t have done it. And it doesn’t-I can’t-I hate hearing it. Because I wasn’t worth it, Mr. Stark. I wasn’t worth it. Even if you lov-cared about me. I wasn’t worth your life. You did it for me, and it’s not _fair_ , because I’m not worth it, Mr. Stark.

 

“But you made me feel like I am. You made me feel loved. You gave me a-a _place_. A place where I-I could be myself. Powers and all. You taught me-you taught me not to fear them. That they’re a part of me. And that even if my powers are something that gives me strength, they aren’t what makes me strong. _You_ taught me that. You helped me be better. You-“

 

Peter’s voice cracks, and he stares harder at the spot on his shoe as his vision clouds, breathing heavily.

 

“Y-you never blamed me. Even though there were so many things that were my fault, even though I made so many mistakes, you always told me-you always said that it was never my fault. That I did everything I could. But I _didn’t_ , Mr. Stark. Not this time. You gave up-you gave up _everything_ for me. And I can’t-“

 

A sob escapes, cutting him off, and he sinks to the ground, dropping the bouquet and digging his fingers through the grass and down into the dirt.

 

“I’m _sorry_ , Tony. I can’t do it. I can’t do it without you. You-you’re _Iron Man_ , you’re my idol, you’re everything I ever wanted to be. You’re Tony fucking Stark. You told me-you said that you wanted me to be better. Better than _you_. But how am I supposed to do that when you’re the best person I’ve ever known? I always _-always_ -looked up to you, and when I met you-you were more than I could’ve asked for. You were the embodiment of everything I expected from myself, everything I wanted to _be_. You never believed in yourself, even though-even though you believed in me. A kid from Queens with nothing. You made me feel like-like I had _everything_. You looked at me and-and you saw something that meant I was worth it. And th-then you gave me a chance. To help people. To change the world. Just-just like you. A-and it’s not fucking fair!”

 

Peter punches the ground, sobbing, as the earth mixes with his blood. _Ashes and dirt and dust and blood._

 

“I-I can’t live up to you. I can try-I can try.”

 

He laughs wetly and without humour, his hands still stained with blood and dirt, even as the skin knits back together.

 

“This wasn’t what I wanted to tell you. I was-I was supposed to stay _strong_. You always said that Stark men are made of iron, right? But I was never-I was never yours. I wasn’t a Stark.”

 

He closes his eyes tightly to stop the second onslaught of tears.

 

“No. I can’t do this. I need to tell you-“ He inhales deeply. “You meant-you mean so fucking much to me, Mr. Stark. You made me feel for once in my life that I was truly, truly worth something. You gave me so much. You made me brave. You made me a fighter. You-you shaped me into who I am, and no one else-maybe May, but not even her-has ever had an impact on me the way you have. Y-you _changed_ me, Mr. Stark. You-”

 

Peter sucks in a sharp breath.

 

“You made me feel like I had a father again. You-you cared about me. You actually paid attention, and you listened, and you _helped_. You did everything a father should do. And I never-I never told you. I never said thank you for picking me up from AcaDec practice, or for listening about my day, or for tolerating my stupid ideas in the lab. I never said thank you for celebrating my wins, no matter how small, or for buying me stupid Spider-Man merch because you knew how happy it made me, or for taking care of me when I got sick. I never said thank you for-for letting me be me. For knowing who I was when I didn’t. For helping me with the-the panic attacks a-and the anxiety, and the depression, even though it was hard for you. And I _know_ it was hard for you. You did it all, even though you never believed you could. But you _could_. You _did_. I’m proof of that. You made me who I am.   _Morgan_ is proof of that. She-she’s amazing, Mr. Stark. She’s so fucking smart. And kind. _You_ did that, Mr. Stark. You made her. And s-she’s _perfect_.”

 

Peter lets out a shuddering sigh, tears fighting to escape his closed eyes.

 

“I’m sorry. I just-I’m so, so sorry. And I-I love you so much.”

 

Peter stops, curling his hands into the ground, trying to get closer, just a little closer, _please._ He lets the silence overtake him, swallowing down the words he still needs to say, and instead of talking, he just _is_. Peter lets himself _exist_ , sitting in front of _him_. _Together._ His breath hitches with sobs, and as the sun starts to set, darkness settling beyond his closed eyelids, Peter starts again.    

 

“S-so thank you, Mr. Stark-Tony- _Dad_. A-and Morgan said to tell you that I love you 3000.”

 

Peter leans his head forward, touching his forehead to the cold marble and finally opening his eyes, the tears flowing freely once again. He sets the bouquet of white roses- _red roses to honor a surviving father and white roses to honor a deceased father-_ against the stone, his other hand tracing the etched words shakily.

 

_Tony Stark_

_1970-2023_

_A loving husband, father, and brother._

_“I am Iron Man.”_

 

 _“_ Iron Man,” Peter whispers, his voice cracking as he flattens his hand against his father’s gravestone, “Happy Father’s Day.”

**Author's Note:**

> *whispers* i hope you cried. here's a tissue. 
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](https://charliebradburyismyspirit-animal.tumblr.com/) or leave a comment, they fuel me (so that i can consume it All and become the Host). ;))


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